


Idiocracy

by Rains_of_Castamere



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, M/M, Sickfic, emetophobia tw, kill two birds with one stone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 00:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19734613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rains_of_Castamere/pseuds/Rains_of_Castamere
Summary: Meetings may be bittersweet for a multitude of reasons.





	Idiocracy

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning, I was asked to write this in order to overcome my phobia. I hope it’s not too weird.

Madara stared at the wall clock with growing anticipation. It neared the end of the day, and after a long day in front of his computer sifting through case files, he was more than ready to leave. After all, tomorrow was his day off. Hashirama, his just about life long best friend had insisted that the two of them catch up at this "amazing" new restaurant that was opening up, and for once, Madara wanted to see the idiot make an ass of himself in public, something he was bound to do. Madara might even say it was something he was talented at doing. 

After locking up, he made his way to his car, starting the engine and seeing a message from his friend.

'Hey Mads :]'

Madara couldn't help but shake his head at his 31 year old best friend who still texted like a teenage girl. One that was an intern currently.

'U got d address'

He hated when people would sacrifice grammar and punctuation while texting. He decided to send a simple   
'Yes'   
And let the situation be.

Hashirama awoke the next day a little later than usual. 11:00am. Well, it was his day off anyway, so he was damn well going to enjoy it. Tobirama had certainly left by now and Hashirama was certain that he'd made breakfast and put it aside. The unspoken rule was that whoever woke up first made breakfast, and while Hashirama was usually first, thus he had honed his culinary skills, Tobirama wasn't a bad chef either. The only thing was, despite the plating, the longer Hashirama stared at the plate, the less hungry he became. His attention was brought to a dull ache in his bones. He just felt "off", like he had been beat up in some underground boxing ring. His equilibrium was rather off, his focus was off, his stomach felt off... something was up. He ate at Taco Castle the night before and recalls passing some diarrhea but he was fine afterwards. Besides, he promised to catch up with his best friend, someone he hadn't seen in ages. A little "offness" wasn't going to keep him down.

Time passed and he spent the day lounging, not really doing much. He hadn't been able to eat a thing, or even get himself to think about eating. He was worried. What if he was becoming sick? On the only day his schedule allowed him and Madara to be free! Not to mention that they were going to The Sweet Spot, aka his favourite restaurant. He just couldn't be sick! Not today! He stood up from his chair and marched to the medicine cabinet before pulling out a bottle of Pepto. If he let Madara know he was sick, he was certain he would cancel, he couldn't let that happen.

As the time approached 6:00pm, Madara began his drive to the place his friend called The Sweet Spot. He often rambled about the great menu and how they had the best food in town. He had to see it to believe it. By the time he arrived, his friend was already there. The restaurant was less of a classy one, and more of a fast food one. A step higher than McDonalds, yet not as classy as a typical dine in. Roughly Starbucks level. 

As the two met, Madara couldn't help but notice that his friend wasn't as vibrant as he would usually be, looking a little on the pale side too. When his face contorted in concern, Hashirama seemed to straighten his spine before playing off a joke in an attempt to brush off any suspicion Madara had. But he wasn't convinced. 

When the menus arrived, a waitress came around with a notepad. Madara was the one to speak.

"I'll be having the Chicken Alfredo with mashed potatoes." His friend looked at him. "And I'll be having the tomato soup." Madara eyed the dark haired male.   
"Didn't you say that you're going to be ordering the sirloin triple threat burger?" Hashirama visibly flushed. "Well yeah, but I just realized I left my wallet and only have 10 bucks on me."  
Madara smiled at him. "Don't worry, I'll cover the cost. A gift from an old friend." He turned toward the waitress before Hashirama could protest.   
"He's having the sirloin triple threat burger with fries and Mac and cheese," Madara chimed. Hashirama looked pale. "Why'd you do that? I don't want to be owing you anything."   
"That doesn't sound like you. You've been borrowing and never giving back since I met you in the third grade.” Madara paused.  
“Senju, what're you hiding?"  
Hashirama tensed under Madara's gaze.  
"Nothing at all!" Madara seemed unconvinced.  
Hashirama relaxed. "Thank you? Mada."

“Hnn”

The two waited in relative silence. Hashirama was sweating buckets underneath his clothes that were beginning to cling to his body. Pain had been plaguing his gut since noon and the smell of cuisine was starting to make him queasy. How was he going to down a triple threat burger? What was Madara thinking?! What was he thinking?! As the waitress brought the meals to them, Madara quickly dug into it, complimenting the vibrant flavours. To avoid suspicion, Hashirama did the same. The usually delightfully meal felt heavy on his tongue, its scent and taste inhibiting hunger instead of inducing it. He forced himself to swallow it and wore a plastic smile. It tasted bland and its warmth gave him a different vibe than it usually did. He was ready to give up, but seeing how his friend eyed him, he took another bite, his one harder to push down. His taste buds rejected it, his esophagus rejected it, his now churning stomach rejected it. He almost chocked it back up, but swallowed it down with water. His stomach seemed to settle almost and with relief the two carried on with their evening, both finishing their meals.

While popping the last of his fries into his mouth, his stomach decided it has had enough. It gurgled loudly and he pressed a hand to it. Madara laughed. "Don't tell me that you're still hungry, Hashirama." The tanned male was more focused on wrapping up and getting home. It was almost 9, and the 3 hours they had spent together was nothing short of special and fun. He had learned that Madara's younger brother Izuna had just been accepted into Law school, following both his and their father's footsteps. Hashirama would've been more proud if not for the fact that his stomach wasn't proud of his choices. Why he had decided to finish the burger along with a pack of fries and mac and cheese was beyond him. Of course, being that Hashirama was a natural glutton, it would be odd for him to not have finished the whole meal, but now he was beginning to regret his ill choices. Why had his stomach went silent only to roar back to life now?

"-ashirama? Hashirama!" With a "huh", he looked back at his friend. Madara stared at him impatiently.   
“I was saying, since you took the bus here and you live about an hour away by bus, why don't I drive you home?"

No.

"Uh, sure!" Hashirama just about cried. The searing pain in his stomach was clouding his judgement... why did he say that? What is it, error day? The food sat heavily in his stomach and Hashirama was 53% sure he'd throw up if he got into any moving vehicle. Let alone for a 30 minute drive. He excused himself and tried to use the bathroom, but to no avail. He was queasy, but not really enough for him to throw up the meal he forced down. That didn’t mean it couldn’t change, which freaked him out. As they entered Madara's vehicle, Hashirama prayed to Kami to be able to make it home before he could make an ass of himself. 

Halfway through the journey, the pain transitioned, and intense nausea erupted in his belly. It was slightly more bearable than the pain, but he feared having to make Madara pull over for him to be sick. With each bump in the road the threat of a reappearance grew. He practiced meditative breathing to pull through the ride. However, towards the ending of it, he grew more unable to keep his stomach from betraying him. Once the car had stopped, Hashirama pressed himself against the seat. At the moment, he was 'certain' that he would vomit all over the pavement if he moved.

"Hashirama? Are you alright?"

He shook his head. There was no point, he was going home anyway.

"..." Madara looked at him and laughed. He was visibly pale, as if he was on the verge of busting. Without wasting a moment, he swung the car door open and vomited on the pavement. Not a lot, he had hoped to puke just enough for his stomach to settle a bit so he could ‘officially’ empty his stomach in the toilet and considering the fact that his stomach was still churning, he’d probably be ticketed if he tried to get everything out on the road. This was unsuccessful however, as now a second wave of vomit sprayed out of his mouth and onto the road. He felt chunks rise in his throat once more, but he managed to swallow it down and coughed. A hand settled on his stomach as he tried to steady himself, breathing heavily to avoid vomiting again.

"You were sick from before, weren't you. I had a feeling and was hoping to be wrong." He got out and walked over to his friend's door. "Cmon, let's go. You're not allowed to be sick in my car."   
“Huh?” He asked, dazedly. Madara peeled his friend out from the seat and walked him towards the door. He still remained hunched over, clutching his stomach with one hand.  
"I still have a key to your place, if you remember. Do you think your brother is home?" He nodded, but was to occupied with trying to not be sick to care about Madara's broken relationship with Tobirama. Madara seemed uncomfortable but at the moment he couldn’t care. They would have to sort out their differences 

He felt stomach juices and chunks in his throat, returning. Once the door had opened, he ran into the first level bathroom. Surprisingly, nothing but saliva and a bit of watery puke could come up. He retched a few times unproductively before resigning to place his head on the toilet seat, allowing the metal to cool him.

After a few minutes he felt a hand rubbing his back. They came in a circular motion slowly before applying pressure to his stomach. His breathing became ragged as his semi digested meal worked its way into his mouth.  
"Have I ever told you that you're the biggest idiot I've ever met?" Instead of giving a verbal response, Hashirama spewed a chunky, orange and brownish form of his meal into the toilet. Bits of the fries and sirloin burger were still identifiable. He exhaled sharply, but his muscles still spasmed under Madara touch, and with a loud retch, he brought up another wave of orange and brown vomit that streamed out of him for at least 6 seconds. This time the Mac and cheese were more observable. Hashirama took a moment to breath before he began gagging again. 

Madara couldn't get over how gross the situation was. Part of him wished he had just gone home while another part of him is glad to be there for his best friend. Hashirama let out a briefer wave of sick and paused again. "Madara... Madara, I— oh, god." He groaned before throwing up a thin stream of bile into the now half full toilet.

"Are you done, now?"

Hashirama gingerly placed a hand in his roiling stomach. "I still feel like throwing up, Mada."

"Who asked you to eat a 2 course meal while sick?"

"But we never get to see each other!" He began to tear up now. "If I said I was sick, you'd cancel!"

Madara looked at his friend. Once again, he has made an ass of himself. He dry heaved over the basin and turned to his friend. "We don't get to see each other anymore. I knew I wouldn't see you again in months. I'd rather take the moment than anything else.” Madara stared at the man. He had a point. The two were once like brothers, tight knit and inseparable. College proved to be the undoing of that. But the moments they had were to be appreciated. Even if those moments were spent in a bathroom above a toilet with a sickly smell hanging in the atmosphere.

"Hey, Hashirama?"

"Yeah", the taller finally rasped, spitting up the final round of bile.

"You're an idiot."

"Yeah".

-x-x

"Hold still", Madara pulled the clothes off of his friend and made him a warm bath. He didn't offer any protest.

"Get in, you'll need it." The taller obeyed, entering into the tub of water, relaxing in its warmth. His eyes met the clock.

"It's getting late. I'm sorry I took up your time!"

"Hnn."

Once he had changed into his pyjamas, Madara followed suit, removing his jeans and t-shirt, wearing only his boxers and a singlet. 

"Isn't it late?"

"I'm staying the night, here."

"How'll you be able to get to work tomorrow, you don't have your work clothes to change into?"

"I'm calling in sick. I’m not leaving you like this. We need to catch up on things." 

Hashirama smiled. "We do."

**Author's Note:**

> Well... How was it? It literally took me 4 days to write this and another 4 days to muster up the courage to publish this. There may be errors.


End file.
